


no deep breaths

by orphan_account



Category: Unwind Dystology - Neal Shusterman
Genre: Angst, F/M, Sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 15:39:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21181865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: no deep breaths, you remind yourselfnodeepbreaths.





	no deep breaths

**Author's Note:**

> vincent deserved better. fuck you goldens.

Four kids to a crate, they say, four kids only, and everyone pushes and shoves to find one with the quietest people or the most optimistic ones. A boy like you, with piercings on your body and a stiff leather jacket draped over your shoulders - hah, who would want to be stuck with someone like _that?_

It's the same reason you got unwound. First it was the haircut, then the nose piercing, and by then your parents thought you needed a therapist, stat. 

Somebody pulls you into a crate, and it's more cramped than it looks. It shuts almost immediately, the only light from the blinding desert sun shining through the slits of the wooden planks. The wood is rough and splintered, all jagged and hard edges as you brush your hands over it. Your legs are touching someone else, God, there's not enough space in here. You should've taken off your jacket. 

It's dark and dry in the crate, smelling of tears and urine and vomit and God knows what else. It smells of pain and it reeks of fear. Everyone here reeks of fear, like street dogs who cower under the alphas, like sheep being herded into a pen. Your heart hasn't beat this fast since you ran away from home. 

"H-how, how... how m-ma-many people a... are i-in he-here?" a boy asks. His voice wavers and tilts, words tripping and breaking. "I- I'll - I'll be n-numb-ber one." 

"Two," says another. "Number two." 

"Three."

"Number four," you choke out, biting your bottom lip. A timid voice whispers something to your left, so quiet that it's barely audible. "What?"

"Number five. I'm sorry." 

The voice is shy, full of anxiety. It's nothing like you or Mai - God, was Mai okay? She had to be, there had to be enough crates on the girl's side for everybody. 

"Nothing to be sorry about." Number Three mumbles boredly. "What do we do now?" 

The crate starts moving. 

* * *

What time is it? 

Is it day?

Is it night?

Where's Mai? 

Where are _you?_

"Chill, Four! You're going to use up all our oxygen." 

Oxygen. Oxygen oxygen oxygen. His lungs were burning. There wasn't enough air in the crate. 

No deep breaths, you remind yourself. No deep breaths. You need to get back to Mai. Mai's your rock, your lifeblood. She's the only constant in your life, she promised they'd stick together until they were eighteen; legal adults, no longer AWOL Unwinds or runaway delinquents. Life wasn't worth living until Mai came along. 

"We're going to die anyways," Two croaks out. "No point in delaying it." 

* * *

Seconds turn to minutes. They pass slowly, crawling and inching along until there's nothing left in the crate except five corpses, glassy-eyed and still. 

Mai knew you loved her, right? 

Right. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading - find me at @holy-fishstick-fight on tumblr lol im homestuck on main there though


End file.
